


Mr. & Mrs. Blake

by julinnnics



Category: Bellarke - Fandom, bellamy and clarke - Fandom
Genre: Bellamy Has Feelings, Clarke has trust issues, Don't Judge Me, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mr. and Mrs. Smith inspired, THEY ARE MARRIED BUT ITS SLOWBURN, They love each other but can't accept it, but I don't know how to write smut, kind of, they have sex and fight in the same chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 20:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18948061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julinnnics/pseuds/julinnnics
Summary: Their life as a married couple has been full of adventures and pleasant surprises at first, but now it's boring. They have a relationship every neighbor is jealous of, it always seemed on the outside that they just have perfect lives, living in a huge mansion, both have good jobs, and host barbecues every month.They were young, stupid and in love, both orphans at a young age, so they understood each other perfectly.In reality both of them are assassins hired by competing agencies to kill each other, its funny how in their two and a half years of being married it never came up.





	1. Chapter 1

_2,5 years ago…_

 

At twenty years old, Bellamy never thought that he'd become a professional assassin. When he first got the job with his now dead friend, Miller, he thought he was going to rob some rich assholes house, nothing more, but then at the mission he found out that the agency wanted the guy dead, not robbed— it was shocking to say the least. Robert Waltz, that was his first kills name.

 

He started the job when he was eighteen years old, his mother overdosed, and his sister ran away with her boyfriend, saying that she didn't want to see him ever again. He didn't care about his future nor life at all, so when Miller said he hooked them with a job that paid a lot, Bellamy didn't think twice to accept it— that was an idiotic move.

 

He counted every person he killed, which there were many. Bellamy kept convincing himself that the people he killed were bad criminals, and that he was making the world a favor. . . even after his partner Miller died on one mission in Monaco; he kept moving forward, working for the agency.

 

The nightmares still got him at night, every time he'd kill someone he'd get this horrible nightmares about him killing his mother or sister without even a pang of guilt in his eyes.

He was a monster after all. . . killing bad people didn't make him any better than them.

 

 

-

 

 

"The police is taking every person that's alone in the hotel." Cameron said through the little speaker Bellamy had in his ear. Someone just assassinated a big personality in Spain, a philanthropist on the outside, but a drug lord in the shadows— the kill wasn't Bellamys surprisingly, he was in Spain to observe the guy, but not to kill him.

 

"Don't worry." He answered, taking a sip of his whiskey. He was wearing sunglasses, and a white loose shirt, looking smug as ever.

 

"Stop!" A woman growled sternly, he turned around to see an angry blonde trying to get the policeman's hands off her. In a second her eyes landed on him.

 

The police is taking every person that's alone in the hotel. . .

 

Bellamy knew what to do in that moment, and the blonde seemed to also know…

 

Both of them went to each other, hugged one another tightly, trying to look as a couple. The police noticed, and apologized in Spanish. When they finally exited the hotel, the pair separated, looking at each other.

 

"Bellamy." He introduced himself.

 

"Clarke." The woman answered with a smirk on her face, they shook hands, and went to grab something to drink. . .

And that's how it all started…

 

 

_2,5 years later. . ._

 

 

"Have you seen my white shirt anywhere?" Bellamy shouted from the bathroom.

 

"You have like ten of them in your closet, pick one." Clarke shouted back while putting on a tight navy blue dress on.

 

Bellamy sighed, rolling his eyes. "You know which one I'm talking about, princess." He said, he especially said the nicknames she hated so much, just to piss her off.

 

"It's not appropriate for a meeting, plus its too loose." Clarke answered, struggling with finding her matching stilettos.

 

"It's in Miami, and it's the only shirt that's comfortable.”

 

Clarke huffed annoyed, grabbing the shirt and throwing it at him. "Thanks, babe." He snarled, getting more annoyed with her attitude.

 

At first their marriage was filled with kisses and fun, now it become bland and straight up boring. Their sex life never disappointed, and it still doesn't, but it doesn't have the same spark as it had before.

 

He still loves her, but he isn't sure anymore if she loves him.

 

Now all they do is bicker and fight over small things, but act like this super couple around their neighbors— its tiring.

 

"Don't forget your bag." Clarke said, finally locating the heels.

 

"Don't forget yours either." He replied, smirking at her. "It's funny how most of the time when we have delegations its on the same time.”

 

"It's destiny." She answered, chuckling. They spark was still there, but it buried deep deep inside their relationship.

 

 

"I'm going to miss you." Bellamy said, as he kissed his wife quickly on the lips, getting into his car, she smiled softly at him, and got into hers.

 

-

 

 

"What do we got here?" Bellamy asked, as he entered his agencies main room. He was running late so everyone was there, judging him."Sorry for being late." He replied, with a not so sorry expression on his face.

"Carl Rodriguez, former MIT student, got kicked out for hacking the universities site, got locked down for hacking FBI. He's being transferred to a prison in Mexico tomorrow afternoon, they are driving through a desert, so a perfect place to take him down." Cameron answered, and Bellamy nodded, crossing his arms.

 

"Do we want all of the people dead, or just him?”

 

"Ideally it'd be to kill just him, but it'd be safer to kill all of the three guards in the vehicle. We don't know if there are going to be more FBI agents with him, so be prepared for a lot more.”

 

"Okay." Bellamy replied. "I'm gonna head there tomorrow morning, now give me all the guns and bombs.”

 

Both of the man head to where they kept their bombs. Bellamy never was the type of person to just shoot and run, he wanted to make things go boom; call him an hot headed idiot.

-

The next morning, Bellamy got ready for the mission and headed to the desert. When he got there, he saw a house on a hill, it looked empty, so he didn't care to look if there would be someone.

 

In an hour he prepared the bombs on the road that the Rodriguez guy was heading, and situated himself in his car. He put on sunglasses, and got comfortable.

 

Then he saw someone in the little house on the fucking hill... with a gun in her hand.

 

Then the cars escorting Rodrigues came, and Bellamy saw the woman pointing her gun at the cars, he quickly brought his gun, and pointed it at the woman, but before he could shoot her, the bombs blew, and the sand went into his eyes, blurring everything around him...

 

This mission was a fucking catastrophe.


	2. We fight like we love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke find a big secret about one another.

“What’s this idiot doing here?” Clarke asked herself, opening her laptop and searching for anything that could make her recognize the mysterious guy. Before she could take another look at him the bombs fired off, making her cover her ears with her hands and dropping to the ground. When the annoying ringing stopped in her ears, Clarke slowly stood up looking through the window in the little house.

 

She could see that both of the vehicles were destroyed and burned down, but the man was nowhere in sight, she kept searching with her eyes, but didn’t find nothing… He was gone, and Clarke furious to say the least.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Find that bitch.” She stormed into her office, ordering people around.

 

“We need to start a—“

 

“I said find that bitch now, so I can finish him off.” She snapped which made the woman beside her jump slightly, she nodded and quickly run off to somewhere. Clarke felt guilty for treating her like that, but the asshole just ruined her mission, and her boss wouldn’t be so happy about it.

 

Speaking of which… “Mrs. Blake, he wants to speak with you.” A woman named Olivia came in with a phone in her hand. Clarke sighed running a hand over her face, and accepted the phone call.

 

“Hello?” She answered, ready for being told how disappointed he was in her.

 

“This mission was huge, and you let some tourist distract you!”

 

“Well I don’t think tourists have illegal guns on daily basis.” She replied under her breath, knowing it would just anger her boss even more.

 

“The best assassin I’ve known is you, and you let someone unprofessional distract you.” Her boss corrected himself. “You need to clean the mess you did. You have two days to kill the guy ruined your mission.”

 

“Yes, mr. Walden.” She replied in her formal tone, she put the phone away and took a deep breath, the only thing she knew about the guy was that he somehow got dangerous weapons on himself, and that he wore a stupid white shirt, and had dark hair from what she’s seen.

 

Then it clicked…

 

But it couldn’t have been him…

 

“Raven!” She shouted.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Could you look in detail about my husbands job?” She asked, and the woman in a tight ponytail raised her eyebrows at her in confusion, but didn’t ask more questions, nodding left the room to work.

 

Clarke put both of the feet on the desk, closing her eyes for a minute. Maybe she was irrational and desperate to find someone that could match this guys identity, because how could her husband be there?

 

She had 48 hours to find a person matching this guys look, and thinking that her husband, who couldn’t hurt a fly was him was more than irrational.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey! I found something about Bellamy.” Raven shouted from her desk, clarke quickly came over to her, and found a lot of information about her husband. “I see you’re confused so let me just summarize everything for you.” Raven said. “Your husband works for an agency called _CVIAC_ , which isn’t a shortcut or something, its literally names like that. It says they work with the police, but that sounds fishy, because look.” Raven pointed at the monitor. “The first thing when you look for them is that they work with the police, which is odd.”

 

“Maybe it’s just their way of saying they’re legit.”

 

“Or maybe they are hiding something from the daylight. Like us, kind of. Well, Blake fits all the criteria for the guy you saw, he had the same white shirt you hate so much on, and he had tan skin and dark hair, now he found out that he’s working for some shady agency, everything is clicking that’s him.” Raven answered a little bit too excited, then she saw the grimace on Clarke’s face, and her facial expression turned into an apologetic one.

 

“Don’t anyone yet, I’m going to figure this one.” She answered, and got up to get her coat from her office, and leave the agency. The day was really bad for her, so it was obvious that she was in huge denial for the next 24 hours.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Clarke decided to stay in the office in the end, she bought some alcohol, and laid on her desk— trying to think about the fact that her husband was supposedly the man on the desert.

 

She didn’t realize how much she had drank until finding herself the next morning on the floor in the middle of the office with bottles of wine around her. Still… she couldn’t find out how she ended on the floor.

 

“Wake up.” Raven said, shaking gently her shoulder. “You need to come back home, and act like the perfect wife you are.”

 

“But I don’t want to.” She whined, sounding like a five year old.

 

“I’m going to come back with you, gonna help you hide some guns in the house before his arrival so it’d be easier for you to kill him.”

 

“Who said anything about killing?!” Clarke snapped, getting up way too quickly. The light from the windows was blinding.

 

“Boss found out about who the guy was… your new mission is to kill your own husband.” Raven replied, sounding apologetic. “They found out on their own, I didn’t tell anyone.”

 

“Then how can you explain to me, why all of sudden they realized its my own fucking husband, huh?!” She snapped.

 

“I swear I didn’t tell anyone, plus, you don’t love him anyway remember that.” Raven said, and Clarke nodded. “You got married to have a safe alibi, he probably did it for the same reason.”

 

“It’s just hard to think that my husband wanted to kill me.” She sighed. “Do you think he knew from the very beginning?”

 

“I don’t think so, because if he did then you’d probably be dead by now.”

 

“Maybe.” She said, getting up from the floor, and getting her coat.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Check every room first, then install weapons.” Clarke ordered, coming in with a group of her coworkers, everyone nodded. They needed to make this quick, no one knew if Bellamy was going to show up unannounced now or later.

 

“Clear.” Raven shouted from upstairs, and Clarke nodded. Everyone started placing the guns in secretive places that Clarke knew Bellamy wouldn’t dare to look at because of his allergy for dust.

 

When all of this was over, Clarke said her goodbyes to all of them, changing in a different dress, this time it was a bloody red one that wasn’t as tight as the other one.

 

This day was going to be interesting to say the least. . .

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The days seemed to get longer every second. When Bellamy came home the next day he had a small bruise on his cheek that was fading, which only gave Clarke more reasons to think it was him.

 

She tried not to think about it, jumo right into finding the right guy, but she didn’t find any. Clarke was pretty sure that her husband tried to kill her yesterday, but she still couldn’t say it out loud, she could barely think about it. The only way to really find out the truth was to put him to a test— ask him questions about Miami in detail, and see how quickly he responded.

 

They didn’t talk, only when it was necessary, but that wasn’t an unknown thing for them. Walking on eggshells around each other was on daily basis in this household.

 

“How was Miami?” Clarke asked, while sitting at the other end of the dining table, Bellamy sat as far away as he could.

 

“It was nice… warm for once.” He said, chuckling to himself at his own joke. Clarke smiled tightly, while stabbing the meat on her plate not too gently.

 

“What was the conference about anyway?”

 

“Oh, just some business stuff as always. You know whether they should build something there or there.” He shrugged, putting a big piece of tomatoes into his mouth.

 

“Building what exactly if I might ask.” She asked, innocently, looking at him straight into his eyes. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows.

 

“Curious much?” He teased, but Clarke was having none of it, she looked at him seriously expecting an answer, while torturing the food on her plate, she was surprised the plate didn’t break yet. “Uh, we’ve discussed about building more offices for the company, you know; to expend it further in the country.”

 

“And what does the company you work for do? You’ve never told me.” She asked, narrowing her eyes even more at him.

 

“Oh, uh, it’s just some legal stuff. Like taking care of files on criminals, or people who don’t pay their bills.” He replied with a smug look on his face. Both of them knew what was happening, but none of them were about to to do something about it. They just kept glaring at each other with tight, fake smiles on their faces.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_A couple hours earlier.._

 

Bellamy

 

“What the fuck do you mean by saying that my wife is working for our competing agency exactly?!” Bellamy snapped at Monty.

 

“She matches everything you’ve said about the woman in the house. I even looked if she was working in the hospital, like she told you and she never stepped a foot there; you just need to connect the dots.”

 

“This has to be some fucking weird dream.” He exaggerated, and Monty rolled his eyes at him.

 

“Think about it. Both of you got married after just six months of being together, were you proposing because you loved her? Yes, but you also did it for you not getting busted for a mission you fucked up. Do you really think she’s agree to this marriage just out of pure love to you?” Monty asked, raising his eyebrow at him. The last sentence really stung, but he was right. Bellamy nodded. “That’s what I thought. She could even be the one who assassinated the guy in Spain, you’ll never know.”

 

“So you really are saying that I’ve been living under a roof with an assassin who works for the competing agency?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t doubt you never loved her, because you did, and still probably do, but people at her agency will find out sooner or later that it was you, and if you won’t kill her before, she’ll kill you. It’s not about love anymore, it’s about survival.”

 

“Fuck.” Bellamy muttered under his breath, running his hand through his curly hair. “This is the definition of a clusterfuck.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_A couple of hours later…_

 

Bellamy could sense the tension in the dining room, both of them kept on eating, but when they had a chance they were staring daggers at each other from across the room. He knew that she found out about him, and wasn’t going to make the first move on being upfront with him, because that was not who she was… Well he wasn’t so sure who she was, she could be a natural brunette, or instead of Clarke, be name Natasha or some shit.

 

“I’m really tired, I think I’m just going to head to bed early.” Clarke yawned, yeah right, she was just going to prepare a gun under her pillow so she could kill him in his sleep.

 

“I’m going to watch some television before I head to bed, but goodnight, Princess.” He added the nickname specially to piss her off, knowing that she couldn’t do anything about it.

 

“Goodnight.” She answered, going up the stairs to their bedroom, when she finally disappeared from his sight, Bellamy quickly brought a gun, and put it behind in his pants, he put a small knife under his sleeve, and as quietly as he could went upstairs. He could hear the water running from the bathroom, so he decided to go there.

 

In the end it was the wrong move, because when he entered the bathroom, his head was immediately smashed to the mirror which had broken under the pressure, he felt hazy for a second, but quickly returned, and ran down the stairs after Clarke.

 

It was silent which was feeling uneasy, because he knew she could come from every corner. In the end he was right, when he was moving slowly towards the kitchen, something hit him in the ribs from his left side, he stumbled a couple steps away with a pained expression on his face, but attacked her seconds later with the back of his gun.

 

They fought for not even a minute before they separated, shooting at each other from a distance— him hiding behind the counter in the kitchen, and her behind a wall.

 

“Don’t make this any harder, Sweetheart.” He shouted, while shooting blindly over the counter.

 

“You think this is me playing hard to get?! Just so you fucking wait, Honey!” She shouted back, throwing a grenade into the kitchen, Bellamy jumped away before it could do any damage to him. “Son of a bitch.” He murmured to himself. He saw glimpse of blonde hair in the leaving room, he run there and started shooting at the first moving thing he saw, when he was out of bullets, he decided for the grand finale to come quicker than he intended; he brought the shot gun from the fire place hiding greatly under the logs.

 

Clarke out of nowhere started shooting in his direction, but Bellamy was quick and he immediately ducked, staying behind the couch. When the shooting silenced, Bellamy brought the shot gun, and started shooting at the wall where she’d probably has been hiding behind.

 

“Always knew you were an asshole.” She snapped, knocking him to the ground, Bellamy got quickly up, punching her in the stomach with his knee, and taking the chance to knock her down to the ground.

 

“Come to daddy.” He gestured with his hands, smirking down at her. In a time span of seconds she got up, kicking him right into his dick which hurt _a lot._ She kicked him once more, which resulted in his whole back slamming to the cupboard.

 

“Who’s your daddy now?” She smirked, running to the kitchen probably to get a gun. Bellamy got to his feet quickly after a session of coughs. Aiming his shot gun at kitchens entrance he slowly went in, both of them saw each other, pointing their guns at one another.

 

Silence…

 

They glared at each other with hatred in their eyes, both of them ready to shoot, but none of them made the first move. Clarke had two guns in both of her hands, and Bellamy a shot gun aiming at her chest.

 

After what felt like eternity, Bellamy put the shot gun down slowly, not trying to startle her. He threw it across the room, now weaponless. Waiting for his death.

 

“Come on.” Clarke said with gritted teeth, he couldn’t see her in the darkness, but he was sure that her eyes were starting to fill with tears. Her hands started to shake slightly, but she made no move of putting the guns down. She was a hell of a stubborn woman.

 

He decided that if she was going to shoot him, she would already make the shot, but she didn’t. Clarke kept her guns up, but the tears flowing down her cheeks showed the vulnerable side of her. Bellamy moved towards her, grabbing both of the guns and throwing them in the direction where the shot gun has landed.

 

His lips were on hers, bruising them, as his hands came flying to her waist, pushing her against the wall. They kissed like they fought, with fire and destruction around. Clarke’s hands found their place in his hair, tugging them gently.

 

It felt, like their spark never disappeared, maybe it was because that they found out about their second lives, maybe hiding the honesty was why they became a bland couple.

 

Bellamy kissed her once more, and put his hands on her thighs, gesturing for her to jump. When she did, he slammed her against the wall once more, she gasped, tugging on his hair now not so gently.

 

“Bell…” she moaned, when he basically ripped the dress off her, his hands flew to her breasts…

 

Couple hours later, to their surprise instead of killing each other, they found themselves laying on the floor in the living room, looking at the fire in their little fireplace; at peace with each other…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I escalated this really quickly, but I just couldn't handle them being in the unknown about each other, but there's going to be 10+ chapters so don't worry. I want to focus on Bellamy's vulnerable side, why he feels that Clarke doesn't love him (she does, but he doesn't know that).


End file.
